What Dreams May Come
by Ju Ju La La Love
Summary: There is a big old house in the English country side called Thornhill Manor. Here we find Rose and the Doctor... babysitting? Mysteries abound and nothing is quite as it seems as enemies old and new appear and the duo must question everything they know.


**Author's Note**

_Before we begin, I felt I should put a little disclaimer. I am not a sci-fi writer. In fact, with the exception of Dr. Who and some anime series, I don't even really like sci-fi. My specialty is really fantasy, so over the course of this story you will see many fantasy elements. I'd also like to point out now that I don't intend this to be a strictly canonical work. I'll do my best to stay true to the already established characters, but be aware that there will be many crossover characters and a few OCs (a couple of whom will play significant roles in the story). That said, this is still a story about Rose and the Doctor. If you don't recognize crossover characters, that's okay. I'll do my best to explain their purpose and make them an entertaining part of the story. If you do recognize them, that's great. They're there for you to have a fangasm over. Feel free to roll your eyes or even stop reading if you don't like that sort of thing, just don't send me hatemail about it. All right, I think that's it. Please read and enjoy!_

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><p>Rose Tyler sat on the edge of the child's bed. George was ten years old and still wanted to be tucked in at night. Personally, Rose thought that he was old enough to put himself to sleep, but that was not her call to make. After all, he wasn't her child and furthermore, this was what she had been hired to do. For the time being, she worked as the nanny to George Rowley, son of Lord and Lady Rowley of Thornhill Manor.<p>

If she were being completely honest with herself, Rose would have to admit that she looked forward to her nightly conversations with George. The boy loved to hear stories, and Rose rather enjoyed telling them. Each night she'd wait for him to climb into bed, his dirty blonde hair still wet from his bath, and settle under the covers. Then he'd look at her so intently from behind his little, round spectacles that she couldn't help but smile. Finally, he'd ask for a story.

"Alright," said Rose. "Now, where did we leave off last night?"

"The heroes had fallen into a parallel universe where people's brains were being put into robots," George answered, eager to hear the rest of the tale.

"That's right! What a good memory you have. Let's see here. Well, each hero had a job to do. The girl… what was her name again?"

"Her name was Rose! Just like you!"

"That's right. And there was her friend…"

"Mickey."

"Yes. And who was the last one?"

"The Doctor!"

"Of course! Can't forget the Doctor, can we?"

"No," said George. "He's my favorite."

"He's my favorite too," said Rose. "Now, if I remember correctly, he had just been captured by the Cybermen, and discovered that Rose and her father were in the same predicament. But the Doctor had a plan. You see, in order to stop the human brains from panicking when they realized they had been placed in metal bodies, a device called an emotional inhibitor had been placed inside with them. This stopped them from being able to feel. The Doctor knew that if he could disable that inhibitor, the Cybermen would be unable to handle the emotional turmoil and would destroy themselves."

"So what did the Doctor do?"

"Hold on now George, don't get ahead of me. You see, while all this was going on, Mickey and his friend Jake had snuck up to the top of the factory and taken over the air ship of the man who created the Cybermen."

"Where was their creator? Why wasn't he protecting his ship?"

"Well," said Rose, "he had already been captured by the robots and made into their leader."

"Oh," George replied. "I see."

"Anyway, back to the story. Mickey and Jake were on the zeppelin, and had hacked into the computers in order to stop the transmission that was controlling people's minds through the headsets that everyone wore. Then, they realized that there was a camera in the room with Rose, the Doctor and the Cybermen. Aware of this, the Doctor hinted to Mickey to search the computers for the code to the emotional inhibitor and to send it to him. Mickey did, the Doctor turned off the inhibitor, and the Cybermen were stopped. Everyone flew away in the air ship and the day was saved."

"What happened to everyone after that?"

Rose paused and moment and gave a sad little sigh. "I don't know," she said. "Rose and the Doctor took off in the TARDIS, and her father and Mickey stayed behind in the parallel world."

"That story has a sad ending," George said. "But I like it!"

"I'm glad," said Rose with a smile. "You really do like stories, don't you?"

"Oh yes! I love them! And I'm so happy that you know so many! Mr. Smith does too. He tells them to me when I'm supposed to be studying."

"I'm sure he does," Rose replied. Mr. Smith was, of course, the Doctor. He was posing as a live-in tutor for George. "Did he tell you any good ones today?"

"Yes! He told me about these creatures that feed off the energy created by time travel. When you look at them, they turn into statues. They're called Weeping Angels."

"They sound frightening. Are you sure you'll be able to get to sleep tonight?"

"Of course," George insisted. "I'm not a baby. Besides, your stories and the ones Mr. Smith knows aren't scary. Not like the ones Mac tells me."

Mac was the groundskeeper. He was a young, twenty-something man, tall and thin, with long blonde hair and piercings all over his head. He didn't really dress like a gardener. He would walk around in torn skinny jeans, faded shirts, beat up Chucks and a newsboy hat. Rose had been told that he had started working at the manor about three months before the Doctor and herself arrived. He was a bit eccentric, but the gardens had never looked more beautiful and he had never been anything but pleasant.

"Mac tells you stories as well, does he?" Rose asked. "What kind of stories?"

"I don't know what to call them. I guess they're kind of like fairy tales, but they're not ones that I have ever heard. They're darker, and more… I don't know; alive, I guess."

"If they scare you, then why don't you tell Mac to stop telling them to you?"

"Because I enjoy them too much," said George.

"Well," Rose said, "you've got nothing to be afraid of. Nothing will hurt you while I'm around, I promise. Besides, they're just stories."

"You're right, Rose."

"Of course I am. Now, it's time for bed. Goodnight, little man."

She reached to turn off the lamp on the bedside table, but George stopped her.

"Could you leave the light on? Just for tonight?" he asked.

"Of course," Rose said. She waited for the boy to close his eyes, then tiptoed across the room and slipped out the door.

Before she could turn around, Rose felt someone give her a tap on the shoulder that made her jump out of her skin. Her heart racing, she heard the Doctor saying, "Sorry Rose. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Then maybe you shouldn't sneak up on people!" she snapped.

The Doctor shrugged. "I didn't know you were so jumpy," he said.

"I'm not," Rose replied. "It's just something about this house. It gives me the creeps. It's something straight out of a gothic horror."

Thornhill Manor was everything you would expect from an old mansion in the English countryside. It had a long history, most of which had either been forgotten or made up, and the entire house reeked of aristocrat. The interior was as dark and foreboding as the exterior, and the sun went out of its way to shine anywhere but on the property.

"I must say," admitted the Doctor. "This place is worse than the Torchwood Manor. And they had werewolves."

"How much longer is this going to take?" she asked. "I mean, we've been here a month already, haven't we? And we still have no idea where this rift or whatever is."

"It's a ripple, Rose," said the Doctor. "A ripple in reality. We need to find it before it becomes a rift. We'll just have to be patient. I mean, it's not like there will be a giant neon sign pointing it out. Well, actually, if reality is bending then that just might be a possibility."

"This is no time to joke, Doctor. I mean it, I don't like being here. So let's find this ripple, take care of it, and leave."

"Really? You're ready to go? What about George?"

Rose stopped. The two had been walking together through the old house, on their way to the kitchen for a before-bed cup of tea. She turned to the Doctor. "It's hard not to love him, isn't it? He's so clever."

"Brilliant is the word I'd use," said the Doctor. "He's got an intellect well above that of his peers."

"You just like him because he hangs on your every word and you like to hear yourself talk," she teased. Her smile faded. "I do feel bad for him though. He's never had any friends. His parents keep him locked up in this house, away from the world, while they go off gallivanting throughout Europe. Where are they now? Venice?"

"Milan, actually."

"Exactly. Poor George."

The pair had reached the kitchen. Cook had since gone to bed, but she had left the kettle and some crumb cake out for the newest members of staff. Rose and the Doctor sat down to partake in their nightly ritual. They passed the time by discussing their days, comparing notes, and analyzing any potential clues there might be to the location of the ripple. When they were finished, the Doctor stood by the sink while his companion did up what few dishes there where.

"George said that Mac has been telling him stories. He says they scare him."

"Mac the gardener? He has scarier stories than us? I find that hard to believe."

"He said Mac's stories were… what was the word he used? Alive."

The Doctor was staring out the window, distracted by something. "They're just stories," he said absentmindedly. "Here, Rose, come look at this."

"What?" she asked, as she peeked out the window above the sink. "Well, speak of the devil!"

Both Doctor and companion watched as Mac the gardener came out of the groundskeeper's house. In all actuality, house was a bit of an overstatement. It was more of a shack that sat across the kitchen garden right at the point where the lawn became the tree line, but that's neither here nor there. The pair watched as Mac headed off into the woods, carrying something under his arm.

"Tell me, Rose, what kind of man goes into the woods in the middle of the night?"

"One that has something to hide."

It didn't take long for the two to put on their coats and head out into the darkness. During the summer months, the Thornhill gardens were magnificent. There were several of them all together, each more beautiful than the last; but now it was late fall and the only color in the garden was the evergreen hedge maze. The Doctor and Rose trudged across the cold, soggy ground and entered the thick woodland that surrounded the property.

Unfortunately for the Doctor and his companion, neither was very good at tracking or navigation. After twenty minutes of aimless wandering, Rose had just about had enough. "We're lost!" she shouted accusingly.

"Nonsense," said the Doctor. "I know exactly where we are. Go ahead. Ask me where we are."

"If you say, 'We're right here," I'll rip off your naughty bits and leave them for the birds."

"Never mind. Don't ask me where we are."

"It's cold, it's wet, and I'm tired. Let's just try and find our way back to the manor."

"Hold on," said the Doctor. "Did you hear that?"

Rose fell silent for a moment as she strained to listen. From off in the distance came the sound of twigs cracking as something moved through the forest.

"It's coming from… this direction!" said the Doctor as he turned and raised his sonic screwdriver.

A large shape emerged from the darkness in the direction the Doctor was aiming. As it approached and the shadows slipped away, the mysterious mass revealed itself to be a magnificent white horse. However, as Rose looked closer at the animal, she realized something was wrong. Several things, in fact. First, the beast had a large, spiral horn protruding from its forehead. It also had wings on its back. Finally, her mane was colored blue, green and pink.

"Well, you don't see one of these every day," said the Doctor. "In fact, you don't see them ever. This creature shouldn't exist."

Once again, the sound of breaking twigs signaled the approach of another body. The pair turned and saw Mac enter the clearing.

"Celestia," he said, addressing the horse. "I thought I told you to try and be inconspicuous. Now you've gone and attracted unwanted attention. Oh well. I guess I'll just have to deal with these trespassers."

The wind whipped up. Mac cracked his knuckles and let out a chuckle that seemed to suggest "You won't enjoy this next bit, but I will". He had a wicked smile on his face.


End file.
